Appreciating the Classics
by raspberrytartlet
Summary: She was probably naïve enough to believe that if Barbara Streisand or the Gershwins didn’t belt it out or pen it, it probably didn’t exist. He felt sorry for her for a moment as he selected a few CDs from the numerous CD racks.
1. The Classics 0 Noah Puckerman 1

_**A/N** Haven't bothered to post in ages, too busy, lack of motivation but love Puckleberry. One-shot on a Sunday night that I should have been organising myself for another full work week. Hope you enjoy xx_

* * *

Rachel Berry edged her eyes around Noah Puckerman's bedroom anxiously as he scowled at her in response to her seemingly innocent comment on what they should select for their duet Mr Schuester had roped them into together. She straightened her skirt, looking anywhere but his agitated face.

"Berry, not every song ever recorded is all musicals and Dion," he muttered as he stalked to his vast CD collection. Then again, she was probably naïve enough to believe that if Barbara Streisand or the Gershwins didn't belt it out or pen it, it probably didn't exist. He felt sorry for her for a moment as he selected a few CDs from the numerous CD racks.

"I didn't realize you had such an extensive music collection, Noah," she said quietly, her fingers twisting, failing at hiding her nervousness. "It's impressive."

"You've been here before, Berry."

"I know," she said, quietly.

He threw himself into his desk chair and inserted a CD into the drive, before relaxing his hands behind his head, Rachel watched him lace his long fingers. "You've at least heard of the Foo Fighters' right?" he asked, not looking back at her. When she didn't reply, he considered ripping out the minimal amount of hair that was on his head (he'd only cleaned up his Mohawk that morning and having to re-do it tomorrow would be a real bitch). _Calm down, Puck_, he told himself. "So, like, you've never heard _Everlong_ or _My Hero_ or _Best of You_? I mean, you must have heard _Best of You_, it's a little more commercial but it's pretty recent."

Rachel started at the back of Puck's head as he ranted and wondered if what he'd just uttered was the longest set of continuous words she'd ever heard from him. She decided it was.

"How about Pearl Jam?" he swiveled the chair to face her, his face still possessing that intensity form before he'd turned his back on her.

"I think I remembering them covering The Who – "

"Yes!" Puck smirked. "_Love, Reign O've Me_, for Reign Over Me. You've seen that movie?"

"I like Adam Sandler movies," she shrugged.

"You surprise me at the best of times, Berry. So, you've seen Happy Gilmore and Billy Madison?"

"I enjoyed Happy Gilmore. Daddy loves golf so we watch it together occasionally when he's feeling particularly jovial. Billy Madison is a little silly for me though," she told him, realizing Puck probably rolled on the floor in laughter while watching the latter.

Puck blew a raspberry. "You don't know what you're missing then," he told her. "I'm making you a mixed CD to educate you."

"In what?"

His eyes flashed playfully. "To ensure you don't miss out on some real classics. Nirvana, Foos, Pearl Jam, Metallica, White Stripes and so on. And then I'm making sure I burn The Beatles _White Album_ for you."

She scoffed. "Seriously, Noah," she rolled her eyes, sitting at the edge of his bed close to him in his chair. "I know The Beatles. Dad was instrumental in ensuring that The Beatles were always playing in our home. It was probably overkill, but there isn't a song that you cannot play me that I will not know the title and lyrics to."

Puck quirked an eyebrow. "You issuing me a challenge, Berry?" he turned back to the screen, scrutinizing his iTunes playlists before him.

"Whatever," she said flippantly as he laughed loudly. It was so _un-Berry_, it killed him when she tried to play off cool. Occasionally she did it well, at that moment? Fail.

"Okay, first one," he played the song –

"Pathetic. _As My Guitar Gently Weeps_. At least try something a little more difficult, Noah."

He chuckled. "Yes, mamme," he tried again.

This time she blew a raspberry, astounding Puck who looked back at her in her outburst. "_Blackbird_."

She was good. Not that he was picking any of the more obscure Beatles catalogue, but it was time to pull out what he considered the big guns. He went ahead with the next song.

"_Revolution 9_," she sighed. "Are you done? Clearly, this isn't a challenge, Noah."

He chuckled, loosening up. "Okay, okay, I give," he held up his hands, spinning back and leaning forward, pressing a gently kiss to her lips. "Your music knowledge is superior to mine," he told her. "But let it be known, when it comes to rock music, you know squat."

"Well, educate me. Let's do something you think is appropriate for our duet," she suggested.

"You would totally hate all of my suggestions," he knew this. He was avoiding a fight and having to justify his selections. And besides, he was lazy and didn't mind what Rachel usually made him sing – within reason. She knew this.

"That's not true. If you felt in your heart that it was perfect, I'm sure I could be persuaded," she defended herself.

Without having to think, he replied, "_Pour Some Sugar on Me_, Def Leppard."

Rachel was extremely wary, thanks to his sinister smirk. "Something tells me I'll veto that."

"No you won't, it's 80s awesomeness. Check it out," he found the track and let it filter into his room.

_Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on_

_Livin' like a lover with a radar phone _

_Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp _

_Demolition woman, can I be your man? _

_Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light _

_Television lover, baby, go all night _

_Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet _

_Little miss ah innocent sugar me, yeah _

_Hey! C'mon, take a bottle, shake it up - break the bubble, break it up _

_Pour some sugar on me _

_Ooh, in the name of love _

_Pour some sugar on me _

_C'mon fire me up _

_Pour your sugar on me _

_Oh, I can't get enough_

"How… charming," Rachel said sarcastically. "Doesn't sound like to me, mostly just sexual harassment and oppression of women. Something tells me that's exactly what My Schue doesn't want from us."

Puck shrugged. "Well, maybe it's what I want from you?" he dove off his chair and tackled her back onto his mattress. "It's just a little 80s rock, baby."

She giggled as he pushed some long brown hair from her face as his lips lowered to hers.

"Remind me to introduce you to Motley Crüe, okay?" he laughed as the medley for _Kickstart My Heart_ pounded through his already overactive imagination.

"Motley Crüe?" was the last thing he let her say that afternoon that was her calling or moaning his name. Music education over for now, and Puck's playtime with a very flustered Rachel Berry awaited. She wasn't the only one in his room that got off to music, you know…


	2. Rachel Berry's First Rock Concert

**A/N – I was not going to keep writing this, but the alerts I received convinced me. It's the holiday season and my birthday so I had some time to kill before starting my day and here's another badly constructed piece of Puckleberry fluff. Enjoy x**

* * *

"Coming!"

The Berry's front door flew open and Puck wanted to laugh right into his girlfriend's face as he gave Rachel his usual once over as she greeted him. He sighed. _Fuck._

"Rachel, no," Puck muttered as Rachel opened the front door absolutely giddy with excitement.

"No, what?" she asked, her smile fading slowly.

"No, Berry, you cannot wear that itty bitty skirt and knee highs to a Foo Fighters concert and expect to not get felt up in the pit. Sorry, you need to change. Jeans. T-shirt," he peered over her shoulder, hoping her dads weren't in the vicinity to hear him. "Sneakers. Anything that isn't a pair Mary Jane's."

Rachel's face crumbled before him.

_Stellar start, Puckerman_, he dropped his head as Rachel turned heel and made a hell of a racket as she dashed upstairs, slamming her bedroom door. _Why didn't you just tell her she was fat while you were at it?_

"It's for your own good," he muttered to himself, shaking his head as Rachel's shit-fit.

"Noah," Mr. Berry (white geek dad, Benjamin) said to him as Puck walked in reluctantly, closing the door after him.

"Hey, Mr. Berry," he said quietly.

"That was Rachel? Not a great start to the night," Benjamin frowned.

_No shit._

"I just thought she should change. I probably shouldn't have gotten tickets to the pit for Rachel's first rock concert," he said. _Hindsight and forethought – bitches me out again._

"Good advice for our dear," he nodded upstairs with a chuckle. "Her father tried convincing her that her first rock concert attire was a little inappropriate. She probably thinks we're all ganging up on her now."

Mr. Berry (tall black dad, Christopher) walked out and shook Puck's hand. "Noah, good to see you, son. Good game last Friday night."

"Hey Mr. B," he nodded nervously (this Dad worried Noah a little more for obvious reasons - he could probably kick Puck's ass if given half a chance). "Thanks."

"Where's Rachel?" Christopher asked. "I thought I heard her open the door."

"Changing. Noah convinced her it might have been a good idea," Benjamin grinned. "I assume she didn't take it well. The infamous Berry Stomp was what caught my attention to come out here."

_Berry Stomp?_

"Ahh, the Berry Stomp. Rachel hasn't done that in a while," Christopher chuckled. "Noah, our little Berry patterned that little display when she was about 3 years old. Whenever she doesn't get her own way, she turns on her heel, tries to put her feet through the stairs and slams her bedroom door repeatedly."

Puck nodded. "Familiar."

"She'll be fine though. Once she's taken a breath."

The men heard Rachel's door open and she re-appeared a few seconds later in a pink polo shirt and blue jeans, silver ballet slippers on her feet. Her face was red and large brown eyes still watery but she was remarkably calmer than a few minutes earlier.

"Better?" she asked quietly Puck.

_We're still going, thank Christ! _Puck nodded enthusiastically. "Awesome."

Rachel sighed and kissed her fathers' cheeks before making her way to the door. "Didn't even greet me before you tell me off. Neanderthal," Rachel said under her breath as she stalked past Puck to get to his truck, parked in the Berry driveway.

"Good luck, Noah," Christopher chuckled as Puck sighed, shoulders slumping and slowly walked out after Rachel.

"Well, this should be a _fucking_ fantastic evening," he told himself as he unlocked the passenger side door. Rachel nudged him away and helped herself into the truck not wanting his assistance as he gave a pained face and wandered around to the driver's side. "Excited?" he tried.

Silence. Nothing but deafening silence.

_So this is what hell feels like_.

* * *

"I learnt all the songs," Rachel said quietly as they stood side by side later, waiting for the doors to open.

Puck let out the exhale he'd been holding since they left her house hours earlier. She hadn't said _a frickin' word_ the whole trip up until then and that was actually scarier than a full on Rachel Berry shit-fit (as he'd so appropriately named it) when she just doesn't know when the hell to shut up.

"What? You're talking to me now?" he asked snidely. He wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of his relief that she finally spoken after he'd given up for the evening.

"Yes."

He raised an eyebrow and moved closer to her. "Really? You learnt the entire Foo Fighters catalogue?"

"Well, yes. I should be more respectful of your musical choices. I really didn't mind the Foo Fighters."

"Foos," he corrected with a small smile.

The people around them were absolutely buzzing with excitement as the doors opened and rushed past them to get dibbs on the best spots on the floor. Puck didn't want to scare Rachel so once the majority of the crowd past, he warily took her hand (she put both of her hands in his – she was nervous, he could tell) and led her down to the floor which they sat on while they waited for the show to begin and made small talk.

"I'm really sorry I over-reacted, Noah," she said meekly. "I was just super excited and wanted to look cute."

"'S okay," he shrugged.

"No, it's not. I really need to learn resisting flying off the handle," she pressed. "It's my biggest downfall."

"True," Puck replied as she frowned.

"You could learn that trait too," she reminded him, fixing the collar on his flannel shirt. "You look handsome tonight."

"I haven't washed this shirt in forever and I think there's a hole in the asscrack area of these jeans," he made a face.

"Charming."

He broke into a sly grin. "Gotta take me for all my disgusting faults, Berry."

"Oh, I do," she said sarcastically as the lights dropped and the screams filled the arena and Puck felt Rachel's move.

"Berry, you're in my lap," Puck whispered.

"Sorry. I wasn't ready for the lights to go down," she whispered back as he wrapped his arms around her shoulders.

"Come on 'Fraidy Cat, you're about to get an edumacation in rock music," he helped her stand as the first few notes of _Let It Die _filled the arena and the screams got louder again.

"Edumacation? Oh, Noah, your English really takes a beating at the best of times."

* * *

_Rachel Berry was singing along with the Foo Fighters._

In some bizarre way, this may have been what convinced Puck that he did indeed love this small, and at times strange, young woman. He secured his arms around her a little tighter as he heard her murmur the lyrics (not belt out surprisingly) to _Walking After You_. He gently kissed her temple, like a lot of other couples in the crowd, but as she settled into his arms, he realized this could be _it_.

And it terrified him.

He was terrified of this little delicate creature in his arms.

What badass is scared of a 5'3" brunette with legs to her ears?

_This guy._

Rachel Berry had gone out of her way to study his, Noah Puckerman, favourite band and as she turned to face him as the tempo of the music changed, she smiled and gently moved to his lips. "I like this song. I'm glad they're playing it."

He lowered his mouth to her ear. "Me too," he told her and pressed her body closer to his. Usually he wasn't a sucker that cared much for the more lovey-type of music the Foos had created (not that he didn't appreciate it, because he really did) but he definitely saw this song in a different light with Rachel beside him.

She kissed him happily. While it wasn't exactly the words, this wasn't the most conventional relationship and she enjoyed when they appreciated something romantic like this, because frankly, she knew romance + Puck didn't go well together (in fact, they could be downright disastrous at the best of times). Puck wasn't going to be her white knight. He wasn't going to ride a rainbow unicorn and sweep her off her feet. In fact, he'd probably be the one to trip her, point and laugh afterwards. She didn't enjoy that she still feared it would take one wrong move on her part and he'd treat her like a social pariah again. She pushed the thoughts from her head. Her boyfriend kinda/maybe just said he felt the same way as her and it filled her with the warm and fuzzies.

But when he wasn't be a jerk, he was special. Sweet. She wondered if one day she could add romantic to this list? She knew that was getting too far ahead of herself.

_Don't spoil it, Rachel. He'll say the words one day when you least expect it and it blow your mind_, she told herself.

* * *

"My favourite song was probably _Everlong_ because everyone knew it and the tempo of the song from acoustic to rock was incredible, and the crowd sang in harmony. Harmony, Noah! I wish I could move people that way one day," Rachel said as she skipped around Puck on the walk back to his truck. She was decked out in swag that she demanded he get in line and purchase for her (_so whipped_). A t-shirt, a badge and a program (the latter two he was holding).

Puck grinned but said nothing.

"What was your favourite bit?"

"Probably _The Ballad of the Beaconsfield Miners_. Kaki King is awesome, she and Dave were incredible together," he imitated air guitar as Rachel stopped him and smiled.

"You could do it, you know."

He frowned slightly. "Do what?"

"Be a rockstar."

He burst out laughing. "I don't think so, Berry. Are you high?"

"No, but there was enough marijuana fumes in the arena to suggest I could be," she wasn't impressed and crossed her arms over her chest to prove her disappointment.

He started walking again. "True story, first time I've seen the Foos sober," he called over his shoulder.

Rachel started jogging to keep up with his long strides. "And was it okay sober?"

He shrugged. "Was okay."

"Was it okay that we went together and not you and Finn?"

Puck stopped and his shoulders slumped. "Rachel, don't."

"I know you'd probably have a better time with him," she persisted.

He rubbed his tired face, how quickly Rachel Berry could destroy a completely zen moment with her unending questions. It was going to be a bitch drive back to Lima. "Fact is Finn still isn't talking to me about this whole Quinn/devirginising/pregnancy thing. So, accept this when I tell you, Rachel, you were my first choice tonight. Can we please not talk about the rest of this tonight? Don't ruin it."

She slipped her arms around him, which he resisted reciprocating. "I'm sorry. I am sorry. Did you have fun with me?"

His muscles relaxed slowly as she snuggled into his body and looked up at her taller boyfriend with big brown eyes she knew he could always gave into. He grunted. "Yes. I did until you started talking again," he didn't put his arms around her, but kissed her forehead, reassuring her. "Next time I'm taking you to _Nine Inch Nails_."

"That sounds a bit painful," she said, frowning.

"Just wait until you hear _Closer_," he chuckled wickedly.

"Ooh, tell me about it!" Rachel said, excitedly.

"Oh, I'll tell you all about," he took her hand and kissed her forehead. "Chances are though, Berry – you ain't gonna like it."

* * *

Puck let out a small chuckle as he read the cover of the CD Rachel had badly hidden on the dash of his truck: 'Rachel Berry's***** Top 10 Foo Fighters Songs: In Order of Appreciation' in bold, offending letters.

**1** Tiny Dancer – Live on Kilborn (this was amongst the mp3's that you provided me). Who is Kilborn? Dave Grohl singing Elton John. I might be in love.

**2** Best of You – it reminds me of loving and losing love. I think this means something to both to us at different times in our lives, the lessons we've learnt and how we've used them to move on. I won't care to elaborate on a CD cover. Let's discuss.

**3** My Hero – self-explanatory. You saved me. You keep saving me. You're the most extraordinary person that I am blessed to know.

**4** Everlong – Your favourite. Will be my favourite one day too. I can't wait for you to hear this song live tonight at the concert.

**5** February Stars – I don't know but it reminds me of a lullaby.

**6** Cold Day in the Sun – Taylor's voice is so rough and gravely. I can't resist this song.

**7** Walking After You – _If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you_. Says it all.

**8** Resolve – moving on without moving on, but trying, And that's the main thing. I hope I haven't misinterpreted this song.

**9** Cheer Up Boys, Your Make Up Is Running – reminds me of Kurt =P

**10** The Pretender – It sounds like fight music. And I like that. Because fighting reminds me of you. And I wish you wouldn't fight. Please quit Fight Club. If it's anything like the movie, you've already broken rule #1. _I know about Fight Club_.

Puck grinned, putting the CD in as he picked up his phone and found Rachel's number although he was still sitting in her driveway with the truck's engine running after she dashed inside, painfully close to curfew. She was probably watching him from her bedroom window.

'_Since when do you like blonde drummers? I thought badass mohawk-d guitarists are more your style. ILU._'

'_What does ILU mean?'_ Rachel responded.

"Ahh, socially stunted Rachel," he started driving home. He figured he would let her fester on it instead. Riled up Berry, his favourite.

* * *

He checked his phone after a killer 3 hours on Xbox. So into _Assassin's Creed II_, he had missed Rachel's IM. He picked himself up from the end of his bed and tossed himself down the other end of his bed into his pillows.

'_I just downloaded _Closer_ from _iTunes. _You disgust me, Noah Puckerman. ILU2, Berry xx'_


End file.
